With Tooth and Nail
by Solus Tal'echoy
Summary: 10-year-old Harry gets the idea to run away and live in the woods, but he leaves at a rather unfortunate time of the month, and things don't go as planned... werewolf!Harry, OC werewolves, OC's are not main characters. Foul language here and there.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: _**_Taking a bit of a break from Fullmetal Alchemist, so I decided to write this story, since it's been bugging me for a while. This is also the longest chapter I've ever written, so yay!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or My Side of the Mountain  
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><p>Across the magical world, witches and wizards everywhere raised their wands, for today was an auspicious day. Nine years ago He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been defeated, and the constant fear among the populace had been lifted. And today people drank to that famous boy, who brought down the Dark Lord, the Boy-Who-Lived.<p>

Unbeknownst to the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived was currently sitting bored in a house that smelled like cabbage soup, on a sofa bearing a strong odor of cat food. Not that Harry was really bothered by the smell anymore, or even noticed it, as he'd been dumped here by the Dursleys almost every weekend since he was three. Was he was bothered by was the fact that Ms. Figg, being an old lady with no children, had nothing even mildly entertaining to a boy Harry's age. Instead she had lots and lots of photos of her old cats. Harry was sure that the pictures would have been interesting if he'd been a girl, since it was common knowledge that girls liked cats and everything to do with them. But Harry was not a girl, he was a boy, and he was fairly certain that boys should not spend their Saturdays looking at cat pictures with old women. Now, if Ms. Figg would have had a dog, that might have been a different story, so long as it was a nice dog and not a bulldog like Aunt Marge's horrid beast, Ripper.

Harry heard Ms. Figg calling him from the other room.

"Harry, dear, I have something that you might be interested in!"

He got off the sofa just as she bustled into the sitting room, bearing a small, rather yellowed book. Harry hoped desperately that it didn't have cats in it.

"My father gave me this book when I was younger, trying to encourage me to get out of the house, I suppose. I never did like it very much, perhaps because the author is American." She held it out to him.

Harry took it carefully. 'My Side of the Mountain, by Jean Craighead George,' the cover announced. The faded picture was that of a boy holding a falcon, which raised Harry's hopes that it wouldn't be complete rubbish. "Thank you," he said.

"Best make sure your aunt and uncle don't find that," she said with a conspiratorial wink, "they don't seem like reading folk. I'll wager they haven't let around many books, have they?"

Harry shook his head. "No, they haven't, especially anything with magic in it, because 'there's no such thing as magic,' like I don't already know that."

Ms. Figg smiled sadly.

There was an annoyed sounding knock on the front door, as much a door knock could sound annoyed, anyway.

"Good Lord, are they back already?" Ms. Figg made for the door, and turned around at the last second, "hide that book, boy!"

Harry tucked it quickly into the waistband of his pants, hiding it under his shirt. He probably could have hidden a dictionary there, what with how baggy Dudley's old clothes were on him.

It was indeed Petunia Dursley at the door, her horsey face looking even more annoyed than usual.

"Petunia, dear, what happened? I didn't expect you to pick up Harry for another hour at least!"

"Duddykins ate a funny welk and we had to leave," said Petunia, who glared at Harry like it was his fault. "Well come on, boy, hurry up."

"Bye," said Harry to Ms. Figg.

Alone in his cupboard, Harry pulled out his new book and began to read. It was actually fairly good. Although the beginning was a bit boring, it got good pretty quickly. He finished the book in only a couple of days, keeping it hidden under his mattress. He started wondering if he could pull off what Sam had. He knew there were forests near Surrey; probably not as expansive as the New York Catskills, but they were there. He knew because Uncle Vernon had tried to take Petunia and Dudley camping in them (leaving Harry with Ms. Figg naturally). According to Dudley, Petunia Dursley had thrown a fit when they reached the campsite, and they turned right back around. Harry had been back in his cupboard within the hour.

So, why not? All he would have to do was wait for one of the (very) few times the Dursleys were in a good enough mood to leave the house with his cupboard unlocked and him in it.

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><p>Lupin stared incredulously at the letter which had just been deposited by Dumbledore's barn owl.<p>

_'Lupin,_

_There will be several werewolf packs gathering in the forests near Surrey this upcoming full moon, and I wish you to be there representing the Order. Doubtless Greyback will also be there, and while Voldemort's power may be broken for now, there will still be those preaching his position, Greyback among them, which, as you know, does nothing to help public opinion of werewolves._

_Respectfully yours,_

_A. P. W. B. Dumbledore_

Lupin didn't generally pay much attention to these gatherings, other than when Dumbledore ordered him to go. He was usually more concerned with finding and holding a job, and with only a couple of exceptions, he didn't really enjoy the company of his own kind. _'Not sure what Dumbledore's trying to accomplish. It's not like my word carries much weight.'_

Surrey, that sounded familiar. If he wasn't mistaken, that was where Lily's sister lived with her husband and son... and with Harry.

"Shit."

The other werewolves would have no way of knowing that Harry Potter was residing where he was, but to gather so close to human settlements under any circumstances, especially ones so full of muggles, was asking for serious trouble.

Two apparations, a muggle cab ride, and about an hour and a half of walking later, Lupin could detect the distinctive scent of werewolves wafting on the breeze. In fact, he could smell two very near.

"Oy, Lupin! I see you decided to consort with us low commoners this full moon! Dumbledore get tired of his office smelling like wet dog?"

"If anyone smells like wet dog here it's you. Lysander," said Lupin. He turned around to see a short man with shoulder length sandy hair barreling out of the bushes and found himself knocked flat on his back.

Lysander sat on Lupin's chest and bared his teeth at him.

With a snarl, Lupin grabbed the front of the smaller man's oversized shirt, pulling him down and rolling over roughly to reverse their positions. Or he tried anyway, because Lysander scrambled back, leaving Lupin holding an empty shirt and still lying on the ground. Lupin jumped up, and the men stood, a few between them, glaring at each other.

Lysander's face broke into a grin, and they both started laughing as they hugged tightly.

"It's good to see you, Lysander," said Lupin.

"You're out of shape, Remus," said Lysander, sizing the taller man up, "wandwork's made you go soft."

"Well, most people don't greet each other by engaging in wrestling matches, Lysander, now are you going to introduce me to your lady friend or is she going to spend all day up that tree?"

A foxy haired woman dropped down from her hiding place in the leafy branches of a nearby oak.

"Remus, this is my mate, Laura. Laura, this is Remus Lupin, I helped him out a bit when he was first turned."

"Yeah, I saw him at a meet a few years back," said Laura, wrapping her arm possessively around Lysander's waist. "Dumbledore's house pet, eh?"

"That would be me, yes. Dumbledore sent me, in fact, to represent him."

"Huh, well don't expect many allies around here. Lysander has your back, and I trust his judgement, but Greyback's been gaining support. A lot of pack leaders have forgotten how he was trying to be the Dark Lord's lapdog."

"I'd say more of an attack dog, but the sentiment's the same," said Lysander. "Word is he's planning something, a 'demonstration' in his words."

Lupin swore. "With how close we are to settlements, he's probably planning some kind of raid. And with the anti-werewolf legislation that just passed, he's likely to be listened to."

"Ulfric won't have it," said Laura, "Something like that goes down, he won't let any of his pack take part."

"His is just one pack though," said Lupin, "Strict traditionalist that he is, not everyone shares his views."

"We figured that," said Lysander. "The full moon's tomorrow, it's probably best if we spend it away from the others."

Lupin shook his head. "I can't just leave, I have to try to stop it, or at least try to persuade as many as I can to not participate."

Laura raised her eyebrows, "You're going to get yourself killed, you know that? We'll be at the meet tonight, but tomorrow you're on your own.

"I understand," said Lupin. Such was the life of a loner; those without packs had to take care of themselves.

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><p>Harry had been feeling rather proud of himself for getting this far into the forest without getting lost (he hoped). He had been even prouder of himself that he had managed to get to the forest at all without getting caught. It had taken him a day and a half to make it here, and he was glad for the amount of canned food he had swiped when he had made his escape out the back door, while the Dursleys had been outside admiring (rather loudly) Uncle Vernon's new car.<p>

Now, however, it was getting dark, and he couldn't see nearly as well as he could when he was still in the city, even with the full moon. Harry was starting to realize that he might not have thought this through very well. Not to mention that he was getting very thirsty.

_'I suppose I could find a park ranger in the morning,'_ he thought. He didn't really want to go back to the Dursleys and his cupboard, though. He could always lie about his name, make up some story about getting separated from his parents in the woods.

A wolf's howl made him jump, interrupting his train of thought. He hadn't considered the possibility of wolves in the forest. He looked around for a place to hide, a tree, anything. There an oak tree nearby that looked easy to climb, with a large hollow about two meters up.

A twig snapped and he froze, about to climb. Slowly looking around, he saw an enormous wolf some distance away, staring straight at him with golden eyes. With it's stature and shaggy pelt, it almost looked majestic.

When the wolf let out a low, penetrating, rumbling growl, it didn't seem too majestic to Harry. He scrambled up the tree as fast as he could, but the wolf was quicker. By the time he had made it up a meter, it had closed the distance between them and grabbed his foot in its mouth. Harry nearly lost his hold on the tree when he felt teeth go through his shoe and break skin.

His hand was was on the bottom edge of the hollow, if he could just pull himself up, if he could just free his foot...

And as that thought passed through his mind, his shoe slipped off his foot and he shot up into the hollow of the tree, propelled by some unseen force. The wolf was still snarling below, but for now he would be okay. Harry took off his other shoe and threw it down at the wolf, feeling slightly better when he heard a yelp from below. His foot was bleeding though, and it hurt. He didn't have any band-aids, so he took off the sock from his uninjured foot and pressed it to the wound.

For now, all he could do was wait.

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><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Good? Horrible? I know I skipped the meet, the next chapter will start with the meet and proceed from Lupin's POV._

_You see that little button below? All you have to do is click it._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **I should probably be reading my bio textbook right now, but whatever..._

_Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, and last time I checked, I wasn't JK Rowling. The OC's are mine though, mineminemine._

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><p><em>One day earlier...<em>

Lupin could tell from the air of restlessness and malcontent that this meet would not end well. Looking back, he really should have simply told Dumbledore where to shove it and stayed home with his wolfsbane.

Stepping into the clearing, he could see four packs present, along with several loners. Greyback was standing near the center of the clearing, looking very self-important. Lupin caught sight of Laura speaking with Ulfric Thorvigsson, one of the Packmasters. At two meters even, Ulfric wasn't hard to pick out of a crowd. There was also the nasty scar on his face which went from the corner of his mouth to his ear, pulling his lip into a permanent humourless smirk. All werewolves had scars, but claw marks tended to come in groups of three and four, not single lines, and not so deep.

Laura caught his glance and motioned him over.

He was stopped when Greyback stepped in his path. "Well, look what the cat dragged in; Dumbledore's bitch came to join the party."

"I have nothing to say to you, Greyback."

"Not even a word of greeting to your sire? I'm hurt." Greyback's grin was feral, showing his sizable canines.

"You don't get to call yourself a sire," said Lysander, who had come over to stand beside Lupin, "when you abandon your pups to be raised by others."

"You're the one who let Dumbledore domesticate him, Hodge, don't start acting 'holier than thou' with me," said Greyback.

"It was my choice to attend school, Greyback," growled Lupin. "Lysander had nothing to do with that."

"Then you're both blind fools!" snarled Greyback, "And you're a disgrace to the name 'werewolf.'"

"I would think twice before accusing someone of being a disgrace, were I you, warg."

Greyback scowled, then straightened up as he turned to face Ulfric. "Packmaster, so glad you could join us," he said through gritted teeth.

"Save it, Greyback; I need to speak with Lupin and Hodge, privately."

Greyback grunted and sauntered away to be surrounded by his cronies.

Ulfric watched him go. "_Sorthinn,_" he muttered. He led them to a quiet spot outside the clearing, where they were joined by Laura.

"You know what Greyback is planning, yes?" asked Lupin.

"Yes, yes, Laura's just been telling me. It's disgraceful, but on the bright side, he'll bring the whole wizarding world down on his head and good riddance. None of my pack will be participating, but I have no say in what the others do."

"You can do more than that, though," pleaded Lupin. "Your views may not be universally shared, but you personally are still a respected voice, you could stop this!"

"I could. But for how long, though? One moon? It will happen eventually; too many tempers have been flared for it to be completely averted, and I won't risk my people's lives for Dumbledore's sake. Those who raid the town will be hunted down by the Ministry, and those who stay away will never be found. All's well that ends well."

"Listen to yourself, innocent people will die!"

"People who wouldn't think twice about killing us, if given the chance!"

"Give it up Remus, he's not going to budge," said Laura.

Lupin continued to glare at Ulfric, who stared back dispassionately. When he saw a hard glint appear in Ulfric's eyes, he reluctantly turned and walked away.

Laura caught up with him. "You didn't really expect him to endanger his pack by directly opposing Greyback, did you?"

"I had a faint hope, yes."

"He's from Iceland, he's never going to lift a finger for a human."

"What does Iceland have to do with it?"

Laura rolls her eyes. "Figures; fancy schooling, not learning anything of consequence. There's enormous prejudice against werewolves in Iceland. I'm not talking government registries, I'm talking hunts on the full moon for sport, medieval style. Horses, hounds, swords and bows, that sort of thing.

Lupin stared at her. "So, his scar..."

"Is from a hunt, yes. He came to Scotland a few days after he got it, it made him too recognizable."

"Fellow werewolves! I have a proposal!" Greyback was addressing the assembled packs.

Lupin and Laura joined Lysander by the edge of the clearing.

"We've all heard of the legislation passed in the Ministry, ordering us all to register on the some government list so they can keep tabs on us!"

Boos and jeers filled the air.

"What happens next? Do we let the fuckers collar and muzzle us? Are we put down like fucking rabid dogs?"

"You have to admit, he has a point," muttered Lysander.

"Dumbledore would never allow something like that to happen," replied Lupin.

"Dumbledore's not the minister, he can't stop shit."

Greyback was still speaking. "The Ministry thinks it's dealing with overgrown dogs, housepets turned savage." He smiled cruelly. "And just outside this forest lies an opportunity to correct them," he said, his voice layered with malice.

"They don't even expect us to retaliate, that's how little they think of us," said one burly Packmaster, Marcus. "We should them how wrong they are!"

A man let loose a howl, and was quickly joined by an enthusiastic chorus of wolf-like howling.

Lupin stepped forward. "You're insane, Greyback!" he shouted, breaking the wild melody.

"Run back to your kennel, Lupin!" yelled a woman.

"Where's your collar, dog?"

"Better go, Dumbledore's missing his bitch!"

"Now, now, let's let the man speak his mind," said Greyback mockingly. "He's werewolf too, if only by virtue of a bight mark."

Lupin ignored the harsh laughter. "You raid the town, it won't make anything better, you'll just confirm everything they think about us!"

"They say we're dangerous, but they still look down on us as animals who aren't any threat," barked one burly Alpha, Marcus. "I say we show them exactly how dangerous we can be. Show them prey doesn't hold power over the predator!"

"It won't earn you their respect, they'll just start hunting us down!"

"Start?" snarled Greyback. "It's already happening! The time for negotiations is long past, it's time for action!"

Ulfric stepped forward. "Lupin is right," he said, in a clear voice of command. "Humans may be just as savage as they cast us to be, but raiding their settlements will not solve anything. I will not stand in your way, but neither will I participate." He turned to face the members of his pack. "If any of you has a thirst for human blood, I won't stop you from joining in the hunt, but keep in mind that those who do will never share prey in this pack again."

Mutters filled the air as Ulfric strode away into the forest, not even sparing a backward glance. The older members followed him immediately, some hesitant stragglers trailing after one by one. Finally the only member left was a teenager who looked to be at major odds with himself. Eventually, with all eyes on him, he straightened his back, looked Greyback squarely in the eye, and shook his head. The youngster turned away and went after his packmates.

Three of the packmasters looked uncertain. Marcus looked pissed. Laura looked wary of everyone in the clearing. Lysander looked like he just wanted get the hell out. Lupin could sympathize.

Greyback had his back to Lupin, facing the area where Ulfric and his pack had been. He turned. "We hunt tomorrow night," he announced. "Planning on joining us, Lupin?" he sneered.

"The Ministry will hunt you down," said Lupin, "I wish them luck."

Greyback bared his teeth. "Wrong answer." He glanced somewhere behind Lupin and nodded.

Lupin glanced around to see two of Greyback's men, sturdy fellows, grab Laura and Lysander from behind. Greyback leaped at him, landing on top of him and pinning him the ground. If he'd had time to think, Lupin might have noted with some annoyance that this was happening a lot lately. However, he didn't have that kind of time, since his throat was now in Greyback's grip. Feeling his airway close, he struggled to get to his wand, which was a little too well-concealed in the back of his trousers.

Successfully pulling out his wand, he mentally screamed a spell which sent Greyback flying backwards. Getting back up, he saw that nearly everybody in the clearing was staring at him, some with outrage, some with envy, a few with fear. There weren't very many werewolves who regularly used magic: their dual nature could make magic difficult for those who hadn't been dealing with it from childhood, and they tended to spend more time in the muggle world rather than face prejudice in the wizarding world anyway. Those who were bitten as children usually never got the chance to learn in the first place. Some, such as Ulfric, were born with no magical ability at all, muggles shoved into a world that wasn't theirs.

He spared a quick glance behind him. Lysander and Laura were still pinned, but unharmed. Obviously Greyback didn't want them killed, just kept from interfering. Lupin pointed his wand at Greyback, who was back on his feet and fumbling for his own wand. Greyback stopped, hand still in his pocket, and glared at Lupin.

'_This is not a good place to be_,' thought Lupin. He needed to keep his wand trained on Greyback, who favorite spells were Unforgivables, but this left him vulnerable to anyone else who decided to jump him.

Greyback's cronies apparently knew this as well. Lupin could see them in his peripheral vision, creeping slowly, a sinister threat in every movement, to surround him.

'_This is _definitely _not a good place to be_.' He needed to act _now_ or he would never get a chance. "Stupefy!" he shouted, and he ran. Running, he heard a couple of pained yelps which indicated that two men had just been kicked in very painful places. His flight was shortly joined by the Hodge couple. "You still carry a wand, right?" he asked Lysander, sending a hex back at their pursuers.

"Yeah, I still have my wand, but don't expect anything really effective, though." Lysander sent a stunner back, which missed all of the werewolves and hit a tree."

"How many?" asked Lupin.

"Five," said Laura, "Three of Greyback's people, and two from Marcus's pack."

Lupin let loose a bone-breaking curse, and heard someone cry out in pain.

"Correction," said Laura, "One from Marcus's pack."

Lupin and Lysander kept throwing spells behind them, but the werewolves weren't exactly ideal targets. One more had gone down leaving three, but Lupin's chest was starting to burn, and he was slowing down. "Reducto!" His spell took a sizable chunk out of the base of a tree, which toppled over and hit the ground, taking out another werewolf. Lupin seized his chance and turned, hexing one of the two remaining werewolves, but the last one was too fast, and was on him in an instant, knocking his wand out of his hand and sinking sharp teeth into his shoulder.

"Stupefy!"

Lupin shoved the now unconscious man off away, letting him collapse on the forest floor. "Thanks," he said.

"Don't mention it," said Lysander, lowering his wand. "I doubt they'll send more. Greyback's made his point."

"That we're bloody cowards, disgraces to the name werewolf, and not worth the manpower?" chirped Laura. "I've been trying to convince him of that for years, he's still after my tail."

"Well, he can't help himself, love, you've got such a lovely tail," said Lysander.

"And don't you forget it. Regardless, as long as we stay well away, we should be fine. And after the full moon, we'll be free and clear."

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><p><em>30 hours later...<em>

Lupin had a screaming headache. He always did, after the full moon, like extra potent hangovers. Admittedly, this one wasn't as nearly as bad as usual, mostly because he was outside, running, hunting, not cooped up like in his school days, or under the influence of wolfsbane potion as he normally was. But headache or no, the first order of business was to find his clothes.

He found them where he left them, funnily enough, under a very memorable tree that looked like a naked woman. Something was nagging him though, like he needed to find someone in these woods. He concentrated, thinking back to last night, trying to sort through what had happened. It was harder than it sounded, since he could never remember events, just sensations. There was the rush of heightened perceptions; that was normal. A surge of adrenaline whenever the chase began; admittedly not something he was familiar with. He focused on the hunt; what was he hunting? He remembered the taste of blood, fox blood, rabbit blood a few times... and human blood. '_Fuck._'

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><p>Harry woke to the sound of a voice below him, and a shoe being tossed into his hidey-hole. His shoe. He poked his head out and looked down to see a man standing there, holding his other shoe. He was wearing patched clothing, and looked rather the worse for wear.<p>

"Are you alright, lad? Can you get down?"

"My foot's hurt," said Harry, deciding that whether or not the man was trustworthy, he wasn't getting out of this tree on his own.

"Alright, hold on, I'm going to get you down." The man pulled out—a wand? He pointed it at him, and Harry started drift out of the hollow. Reflexively, he grabbed at the tree to keep himself from falling, even though he seemed to be hanging from invisible ropes that were keeping him afloat.

"Just relax, you're fine," said the man.

Harry forced himself to stop struggling, and he found himself being lowered gently to the ground. Unwisely, he tried to stand up, but his foot hurt so much that he fell backwards onto his butt. "What was that?"

"Magic," the man said simply.

"There's no such thing as magic!"

"Apparently there is." The man took a closer look at his face, then registered the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, and paled. He sat down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hello, Harry."

"How do you know my name?" asked Harry. There had been several people over the past few years who would acknowledge him as if they knew him, perhaps with a tip of the hat in passing, or a handshake, or even a bow at one point. He'd never gotten the chance to ask how they knew him, since his aunt would always hurry him away, looking disapproving.

"I was a friend of James, your father. My name's Remus Lupin."

"Was that really magic, what you just used?

"Yes; I'm a wizard, so was James, and your mother Lily was a witch. That means you're a wizard too. Now let's have a look at that foot."

Harry stuck out his foot, which was covered in blood, for Lupin to examine, but he was too stunned to register much else. He was a wizard? That wasn't possible, there was no such thing. And he couldn't be a wizard, he was just a ten-year-old boy, he was just Harry. But if he was? Did that mean he would be able to do magic? That idea appealed to Harry. '_I can just threaten to turn Dudley into a frog, and then it's no more cupboard for me!_'

A sharp pain in his foot broke him out of his daydream of a green, croaking Dudley. "Ouch!"

"Sorry."

Harry looked down at his foot, which had somehow been cleaned of all the dried blood, though the bite wound was still bleeding a little.

"I think there's a small fracture as well," said Lupin. He took a deep breath, then let it out in a sigh. "You're a wizard, Harry... and you're also a werewolf."

"What?"

"A werewolf, a lycanthrope. This bite on your foot is a werewolf bite."

"They're real too? And how can you tell what kind of bite it is?"

"All too real. As for how I can tell, well, I am one, and I can smell it."

Harry's mind was racing. That wolf that bit him last night was a werewolf? And now he would be one as well? He supposed anything was possible, if magic existed, and he'd just seen plenty proof of that. And Lupin was also a werewolf, who was nearby the morning after a full moon. Could he have been... "That wolf that was here last night, the one that bit me," he swallowed nervously, "was it you?"

Lupin sighed. "There were a lot of werewolves in these woods last night... but it's my scent on you, so, yes. I'm sorry."

Harry wasn't sure whether to be afraid or not, or angry. But Lupin didn't seem like the bad sort, and every schoolkid had heard one or two werewolf stories, enough to know that werewolves only changed into vicious beasts on the full moon, and were completely human the rest of the time. And then a thought struck him. "If I turn into a wolf every month, I can't stay with the Dursley's, can I?" At least he hoped not.

Lupin looked taken aback. "Well, maybe, maybe not, I suppose it's up to Dumbledore. But you seem to be taking this rather well." He stood up, and helped Harry to his feet.

Well, foot really. "Not much I can do about it, is there?" said Harry, standing awkwardly with all his weight on one foot. "So who's Dumbledore?"

"He's the headmaster at Hogwarts, the school your parents and I attended. He's also the person we need to go see as soon as possible." Lupin picked Harry up and set him on his shoulders.

"I can walk," grumbled Harry.

"Not on that foot you won't," said Lupin, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Harry grudgingly spent the rest of the trip through the forest being carried by Lupin. His foot didn't hurt _that_ much.

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><p><em><strong>AN:** I didn't want to to end the chapter there, but I couldn't foresee a good stopping point without doubling the size of this chapter, and I wanted to get the thing published already!_

_I kind of wanted to dig deeper into Greyback's character, but I didn't get the chance at this point.  
><em>


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